“Life is only precious because it ends, kid.”
- Rick Riordan, American Author of Novels for young readers, in one of those novels, The Son of Neptune
He was only 20-some-odd years old.
I met a young man named Michael two years ago on the golf course. He was tall, fit, athletic, charming, warm, and engaging. He was probably a bunch of other things, too. Positive things. All of them. He was, in fact, infinitely positive.
Michael was the kind of young man I hope our daughters meet and spend 100 years with.
I played golf with him a half-dozen times or so. Saw him at the gym at least twice a week. He was as comfortable with the old guard as he was his young buddies, and he was a bridge between the two groups.
Michael didn’t wake up Monday morning; if we’re reading this on Tuesday, we did. Heart issue. Surgery last week – and he seemed on a clear road to recovery until he wasn’t. If you’d have told anyone that Michael had a heart issue, they’d have thought you meant he liked people too much, was too positive, that his heart was so big it almost wasn’t fair the rest of us.
The post informing the world that Michael had left us was titled “Jesus Was His Caddy.” And so, Michael’s destination is set, and wonderfully positive, like he was. He’ll be there when we get there. Too soon, but he’ll be there.
And until we get there, let’s make a conscious decision to honor a young man who made a difference, and who went home before he had a chance to make a difference over the longer haul with whatever we do next.
If we’re reading this, we woke up this morning. What will we do to make sure that if we don’t wake up tomorrow, someone will remember us the way we’ll remember Michael?
Mick Kirisits says
So sorry for your loss Steve! Sending prayers for Michael (yes, us Catholics do that), his family and friends!! 🙏🙏🙏